Pedro Almodóvar's films are brilliant, so I came to The Last Dream hoping his creativity would translate to the page. It doesn't, really. The collection has a few bright moments, but overall it feels stilted and amateurish — and too often deliberately shocking in a way that seems calculated for a specific audience at a specific cultural moment rather than arising from any genuine necessity.
The Sleeping Beauty reworking has its funny passages but loses the thread by the end. The essay on Warhol and Basquiat is baffling — I'm still not sure what it was doing there or what point it was trying to make. Throughout, there's a sense that Almodóvar is coasting on the expectation that his name alone confers literary weight.
Honestly? These would work better as blog posts than as a book presented as serious short fiction. Stick to his films.
REVIEW: The Last Dream by Pedro Almodóvar
RATING: 2-stars
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